18 hr journey for 36 hrs in Bali

March 9, 2015

This kind Japanese patissier is enthusiastically sharing his stories and asks me my future plans while treating me with what should be a delectable cheesecake and tea. I can’t help but lightly tap on the cloud-like buttercream and stir my tea until it becomes cold. I blankly smile at him to make it seem I’m really engaged. It’s not that he’s boring; I apologize for this unusual apathy and realize to my horror I’m becoming this rude, snobby brat who is emotionally, physically, and mentally fatigued beyond words. I haven’t slept more than 5 hours a night for a month because of a packed schedule of back-to-back meetups, event planning, individuals drowning me in questions from various countries around the clock, and this consequential anxiety.

I don’t want to be a brat. I need to fix this. I need to getaway.

I booked my trip to Bali because I’m burnt out from the hustlin demands of Tokyo, I’ve wanted to liberate myself and venture to a remote island with warm soft sand, and I wanted to reunite with my USC architecture friend, Jessica.

As I packed, my friend Eric called me from Chile and reminded me to not vacation too hard. I scrapped my overambitious itinerary and packed as minimal as possible.  After 17 grueling hours of layovers, delays, and flights with this body builder dude falling asleep on my arm from my left and lineup of babies shrieking for mercy from my right (and losing my new Kindle from insanity)… I landed in Bali as a disheveled mess – yet in the heaven sent, dainty arms of Jessica and her mother, my tante (auntie).  They quickly escorted me to this newly opened, beach front paradise: Maya Sanur Resort and Spa. Jessica checked me in and walked me through this longitudinal pathway into our chic suite that followed the 200 meter long lagoon. Since it was so meticulously designed by Jessica and her father’s firm, everything was elegantly coordinated with hints of a Jessica palette: greys, blacks, electric green, the natural Picton Blue water alongside our private porch.  At the end of this lagoon, was our beach-front restaurant. For our first dinner and every proceeding breakfast, I had the pleasure to dine here with Jessica’s family, the hotel owner’s family, and another Polish architect who flew in from Melbourne.